Not Quite Ready
by ThickerThanLove
Summary: My first Young Justice story. This is a little addition to Episode 20: Cold Hearted. Kid Flash wakes up in the hospital after his battle with Vertigo to find a certain hero waiting for him. K for one or two bad words. Updated it a bit by adding in the line breaks that somehow didn't save on the first upload


Not Quite Ready

_Young Justice characters are not mine. They are used without permission but with no infringement intended and this story is strictly for the enjoyment of YJ fans. This little snippet of story sprung from episode 20: Cold-hearted. I wanted a little more expansion on the aftermath of Kid Flash's ordeal._

The first time he woke back up, he decided it would probably be a good idea to figure out what the hell had happened. He had beaten Vertigo, saved the young queen, all the good superhero jazz. However, he didn't remember much past that. He had beaten Vertigo by a mixture of smarts, training and plain dumb luck. He was lucky he had been able to knock that sword from his hand.

Running cross country in less than four hours would take its toll, even on him. By the last half hour, he had been running on pure adrenaline. Once the fight with Vertigo's goons to get that heart back had passed, he had been running on desperation. The crash through the window had caused multiple cuts on his back and arms, despite his uniform. He had almost welcomed the unconscious rest his body had claimed by force. However, upon awakening, he had been pushed right back into the hero role, forcing his body to move when it had protested every movement.

So now, with the events of the past day behind him, he was quick to embrace the rest that the hospital bed had offered him. They had moved the queen as soon as Vertigo had been removed and judging by the unfamiliarity of this room, they had moved him as well. It was still a private room though. That was nice. Wally West would never have been given a private room but Kid Flash, oh, that was a different story. It was partially to ward off the press. Partially because he suspected the hospital didn't want his identity risked. It was hard enough protecting patient confidentiality without them being a superhero.

He remembered his uncle telling him that when the superheroes first came into the light, there was a big mess regarding the billing, confidentiality rules and all that. The billing the government finally took care of: you got hurt "in the line of duty while acting as a superhero" then the government paid for all your bills. Nice.

Confidentiality wasn't a huge deal usually, except when it came to the "little heroes" that he and his teammates were oh-so-flatteringly called. See, being a kid meant you had no rights period, least far as medical tests were concerned. You had to have some adult sign for you for all kinds of tests and care. It took Robin getting hurt a few times before the issue really came to light. Cause, let's face it: if Bruce Wayne came in to sign for Robin, well there went that secret identity out the window. The Justice League really pressed for change on that end, well except for a few of them that thought kids had no business fighting anyway. Finally, the government passed the "Minor Superhero Confidentiality Act" which in a nutshell said that stabilizing care was given and expected from any medical facility, the government would foot the bill and that one of the adult superheroes could come and sign after wards. They really preferred it to be the mentor but the law technically allowed any of the Justice League to do it. And just like with the adult superheroes on their own, they didn't have to sign with civilian names. "Batman" or "Martian Manhunter" or whatever was perfectly acceptable.

Still, didn't mean that the "little heroes" got the best treatment. Oh, the medical treatment was always top-notch, no issues there. No one really wanted the Flash or Batman or Aquaman pissed off at them. Usually never ended well. But it was the bed side manner that was always the issue. In Wally's experience, it usually meant you got some uppity doctor or snobby nurse who thought it was your own damn fault you were hurt so why should you get sympathy? Never mind that you contributed to saving their freakin' neck. Nope, until you were eighteen, if you got hurt fighting, you only had yourself to blame. When you turned eighteen, that number seemed to magically shift their opinion of you from "adrenaline-junkie punk" to "courageous superhero."

Well, the fact of the matter still remained that he still hurt.

Moving his head was too tasking so he settled for moving his eyes around the room. It was small and dark though he could see some faint light passing in the window: orange in color. So, it was either sunrise or sunset. Swell, clear as mud.

The faint pain in his left arm told him he still had some kind of IV. Of course, he had ripped his other one out when he had made a makeshift staff from the medical pole. It hadn't hurt then but now, with the adrenaline gone and his food intake long since depleted, the nerves were quick to report: OW!

He spied a food tray not a foot from his bed on the counter. He wanted food SO bad. But lifting his arm and pulling it over seemed like so much work. It hurt to even keep his eyes open. Of course, his increased metabolism meant he needed more food and faster than most people. The hospitals always had a hard time understanding that. If they gave him a shot of nutrients, it would be enough to let him sit up for a minute and refuel.

But of course, as luck would have it, no such luck. He sighed, resigning himself to the bed, and to the gentle sleep that would alleviate the pain rocketing through every single nerve. They must have had some kind of pain med pumping into him otherwise his body would not feel so woozy. It sucked really, considering it didn't get rid of the pain. Briefly, Wally considered what he would probably feel like when the pain medication was NOT present. Not cool.

Still…

They remembered that but couldn't remember he needed a lot more food? That being without food rendered him pretty much helpless because his body ate up the energy from it like a sponge? He couldn't have moved right now if he wanted to. His body had been without food for too long and it was sucking it from any reserves he had, without his consent. Keeping his eyes open was hell. If he could just eat a small bit of food…

Hell, they hadn't even had a nurse in to offer to help him. So much for being a celebrity. With a small pout, he couldn't help but think if it was THE Flash in here, they would have had to beat off the help with a long stick. And a machine gun.

Well, at least the bed was warm. Curling on his side, Wally closed his eyes and welcomed the silent comfort that the darkness brought. Almost made him forget the pain in his belly. And his legs. And his back. And…

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Sweet. He didn't know what it was but it was sweet. He couldn't quite place it. The texture was soft, almost melting. When it slid past his lips, watery moisture was left in its wake. It felt good. His lips were dry; running for four hours straight across the United States without a break through whirling wind and snow made anyone's lips dry. So, he tended to savor the water. It was one thing getting medication and fluids via IV; it felt like heaven to actually have it pass his lips.

Oh swell, one of those dreams. Being a speedster, he found food to be an important component of his life so occasionally, and especially if he hadn't ate in a while, like now, his dreams would start to revolve around eating and food. Once or twice, he had woken up in the night to find his Uncle, his Aunt or sometimes his parents (if he was at home) leading him back to his room after he attempted to raid the fridge in one of his dream fits.

But seriously? Now? He was already hungry. He didn't need another dream to dangle it in front of his face. Especially fruit: apples…watermelon, oh, that stuff was good…and grapes…grapes! Best part was when the grape skin burst open in his mouth and the juicy inside just melted away. Melted away…like tomatoes! When you just let chunks of it sit on your tongue and slowly gnaw at it until any resemblance of skin on the fruit had long since vanished. When you ripped an orange apart, panel by panel and had to pry the little slivers out from in-between your teeth…

But no, something was definitely on his tongue now. It tasted too damn good to not be true. It wasn't uncommon to dream about taste but a speedster understood food. He understood when food was there and when it wasn't there and damn it all, there was something…

He heard it now, a chuckle, a low one. Kind of like when someone is trying not to laugh and it just comes out from in between their lips with this big goofy grin. Then there was something else on his tongue, something sweet. It made a light crunch when he bit down on it, yep…tangerine. Tangy…sweet and dear God, so good!

Suddenly, opening his eyes didn't seem so hard. His body was sapping the energy from the food the second it hit his belly, and some of it from the minute it touched his tongue. Besides, he needed to know who it was who was giving him this beautiful and wonderful gift of food.

Squinting, convincing his eyelids to lift was a daunting task but he refused to just lay there. So, after much grunting and straining, his bright green eyes opened to a dark room. It took a moment for him to even register that there was the tiny bit of light that there was, a small side lamp.

It was the chuckle again that made him shift his eyes forward again. His vision was a little blurry for a minute but when that hand touched his red hair and gently tousled it, he knew that laugh and gave a small weak smile. "Hey…" he croaked but his dry throat refused to cooperate to say much else.

Luckily, a straw was inserted into his mouth and when he suckled, cool water flooded his mouth. Cold, sweet, glorious water. And while that soothed his poor, parched throat, that gentle laugh gave him a sense of accomplishment again as his eyesight finally cleared enough to see the Scarlett Speedster sitting a few inches from him.

"Well, good morning Sleepy Head." He teased gently, brushing a strand of Wally's brilliant red hair from his face. "Although technically, it's good evening."

"Hey..Flash" he croaked again, though at least now he could talk. "How long .."

"Came as soon as her royal little highness contacted the league to thank us for sending you" He grinned. "You saved a queen, Kid, how's that feel?"

"Honestly?" he responded. "Like I got hit with a baseball bat and dropped on my as—"

Flash raised a brow at him so he amended "But yeah…the saving royalty part...that's pretty sweet."

Flash ruffled the boy's hair again and Wally leaned into it, taking a great deal of comfort in that familiar gesture. It had always been something between just him and his uncle. His aunt was more of the huggy type. He and his uncle had the hair tousle. It was something to remind Wally of how even if they were in uniform, he was still cherished and respected.

"So…across the U.S. of A. in just under four hours?" Flash went on. "Not bad timing, little Roadrunner."

Oh how Wally groaned and moaned at that nickname, although he had no one to blame but himself for that. When he had first gotten his speed, he had been ten. So, he was still the 'cartoon-fanatic.' When he realized how fast he could go, he had run around his aunt and uncle's house, going "beep beep!"

Hence the title of "Little Roadrunner" had been created by his Uncle Barry and it seemed it still stuck in all its hideous glory. He gave the Flash a disgusted look to which he only got his hair ruffled again.

"Hey, you only got yourself to blame for that, Kid."

Kid Flash just rolled his eyes but he couldn't stop the grin, despite the blush on his face. "So how long have you been sitting here, seriously?" he asked, his curiosity peeked. He knew that the Speedster had said he had come when the Queen sent word but how long was that?

The Flash gave a small smile again, thumbing his nose gently over the cowl. "You were out cold when I got here, probably been sitting here about four hours waiting for you to come to."

The boy stared, his bright green eyes effectively portraying his shock. A speedster could not sit still long; it was an established fact. "You're healing quick, though" the speedster continued. "You have some nasty cuts on your back but give them another day or so and they'll be history." Now, he turned serious. "I'm more worried about your food intake."

The red head smirked lightly. "Hence the force-feeding, am I right?"

"Yes. And trust me; I gave them an earful about that. Sheesh, you're a speedster and you'd think from all the times they've treated me or been in contact with the League that they'd know you'd need food." He assured his protégé. "Were you completely out when you got here?" he inquired. "You're still pretty drained. They want you here until morning because of the energy levels."

Well, no complaint on his behalf. Hell, he was still achy and tired. He didn't really want to show it in front of Flash though. Now, in front of Uncle Barry, that was different. But he always wanted to come across as the strong, brave, if a bit clumsy, sidekick to the Flash when he was in costume.

"Here."

His uncle suddenly had the red gloved hand behind his neck and helped him sit up, raising the top part of the bed just enough that he could sit up right. It made him a little dizzy, probably because he hadn't completely refueled yet.

"Eat."

His uncle was poking at his lips again, this time with a spoonful of what passed for potatoes. Oh, seriously, Uncle Barry? He could feed himself. He reached up with his arm for the spoon but it barely lifted off the bed. It was rare for him to be this drained.

"I'm not going to tell anyone, kiddo." Flash assured him. "But you need to get some energy in you. Soon as you can feed yourself, I'll stop, okay?"

Damn it, he should have been able to feed himself now! He wasn't just a sidekick anymore. He was a member of his own team; he was a partner, not a kid junior league member. He had completed his mission, he had beaten the enemy, and he had—

He strained as much as he could to make his hand work, his mind screaming at the muscles and nerves to work. But nope, they decided he was destined for this humiliation because they merely stayed stock still, refusing to work correctly with no fuel.

The red haired youth laid his head a bit deeper into the pillow, tears poking at the bottom of his eyes. "D-damn it."

This time, the fingers that settled on his hair didn't ruffle but they rubbed gently. He opened his eyes again and his uncle's eyes settled on him sympathetically. "I know." Was all he said.

What he knew Wally really wasn't sure but the look from his uncle certainly told him that he was not going to bring this up in polite conversation which was some form of comfort. Then, just as suddenly, Flash was talking again.

"You know, I've been in this position before."

Wally's eyes blinked a moment and Barry chuckled from behind his cowl. "What, you think I never over-pushed my limits?" He asked gently, smiling at his frustrated protégé. "Same kind of situation too—saving someone else and burning out my own battery in the process."

Flash stroked some of his partner's red hair from his face, smirking again. "Woke up in the Watchtower in the same kind of situation. Lemme tell you, some of that League you do NOT want force feeding you."

Now, he finally smiled at his mentor. "Wouldn't mind it from Wonder Woman."

Laughing, Flash chuckled "Oh, you think so? She's a slave driver."

"She's a _hot_ slave driver." The teenager reminded him with a smirk.

Flash ruffled his nephew's hair again, chuckling "Down boy, down."

But, the conversation had done its job. Though he was reluctant to do it, and he still burned a brilliant red in the face, he did open his lips enough for Flash to push the small spoonful of food in. It wasn't the best tasting food but all in all, for hospital food, it wasn't too bad. And it did start to quiet that rumbling in his belly.

It didn't take long for it to build enough energy for Wally to feed himself. Coming back from lack of nourishment for a speedster completely and utterly sucked. Your body did weird stuff. Flash still sat by his side, steadying his hand on more than one occasion. Wally gave him a slightly annoyed look on occasion but he didn't protest. He had to remind himself to let Wally do it himself, as much as he wanted to hold those shaking hands still and support that trembling back.

Truthfully, Flash had felt bad for his little partner this entire time. For one thing, he had gotten so accustomed to always having him there that the battle among the ice machines had been more difficult than Flash anticipated it. He was always waiting for his protégé to charge in and aid him, forgetting, if only temporarily that he was not there. It had completely thrown him off. Since the Team had been formed, Flash had still managed to snag his Kid Flash for aid if he needed it. It was a blow to the formula for him to not be there. It just felt…wrong.

Plus, he was well aware of his miniature's desire to fight alongside the Justice League. Kid Flash was not quiet about it. He usually babbled about it a lot during their downtime, asking when he thought that he might be allowed to fight with them on an "adult" mission. Flash always just took it with a smile, reminding him to be patient.

Truth be told, he didn't like the idea of him going on one of the Justice League's missions. Not because he couldn't handle himself because he had proved that false over and over again, but well…

Because Flash worried about Kid Flash. About _his_ Kid Flash.

Anytime he found out the kid was hurt on a mission, even if it was minor, he would go into what Wally called "Overprotective Psychotic Mother-Hen Mode." It usually made the other leaguers laugh, all but Batman, Green Arrow, and Aquaman. The others with "mini-me"s. They would just smile knowingly or in Batman's case, he would keep that stoic face and comment on how Kid Flash "handled himself appropriately."

But if you knew Bats enough to look into his eyes and past the cold look, you would see the same kind of smirk that said he was guilty of the same thing when they were out of public eye.

Their partners were invaluable and not just as fellow crime fighters. Each of them had established a strong bond with their sidekicks over the years. They were a balance to each of them, and a reminder of what they fought so hard to maintain and protect. They were their strength, their motivation.

However, as Superman had commented once, they could also be their "own personal Kryptonite."

Flash had seen Green Arrow throw down his bow and surrender because of Speedy...oh, sorry, Red Arrow.

He had seen Aquaman surrender a portion of his lands for the return of Aqualad.

He had seen Batman lose an enemy's trail to dive after an unconscious Robin.

As for himself, he had done a great many things before. He had let Captain Cold freeze his feet in place and let the villain take off with nary a thought at pursuing him so that his protégé was returned to the safety of his arms.

Their villains knew it but so many times their sidekicks made them unstoppable teams, forces that only a few would dare to tangle with. They all knew that the boys had spoken the truth when they had managed to invade Cadmus and free Superboy. Knew that they were growing to the point that they could develop their own teams, become their own superheroes in their own right.

But damn it, that didn't mean Flash had to like it!

He knew his Kid was capable of incredible things. He had seen that from an early age. He was smart, clever, brave, inquisitive, flexible…

So maybe that was why he wanted to keep him to himself.

He was suddenly acutely aware that the small lamp was now off. Blinking himself out of his thoughts, he turned, realizing Wally had turned the lamp off and curled onto his side, closing his eyes. Despite himself, he smirked.

Just like a baby. Fill his belly and he wanted to sleep.

Did you know that the villains had called Wally 'Baby Flash' when he first started? Oh, Wally had hated it and had made that very clear with a series of punches to the face, with a "It's Kid Flash, Kid Flash!"

Flash had laughed, told the villain (it happened to be Trickster if he remembered right) that he better remember the boy's real name.

But you know what? He had thought the name was cute. He mentally referred to the boy like that many a time. Not on purpose either but it just seemed to stick with him. As he gazed at his partner now, eyes closed, little breaths making some of his red hair blow out, mouth slightly open in sleep, he gave a deep hearted smile. Wasn't helping him to not mentally recall that name.

Pulling the sheets a bit higher on the boy so it covered his shoulders, he stroked the boy's forehead, whispering if only to himself. "Get some sleep, kiddo. You've earned it." He stroked the boy's brilliant red hair again. _My baby Flash._

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Wally stirred just slightly, acutely aware that he was no longer in a soft bed but he was comfortable nonetheless. He blinked, a little, realizing that he was moving at a pretty intense speed. He rubbed one eye with his thumb, blinking.

Looking to the side, he took note that the landscape was moving by so fast that if you tried to focus for too long you would throw up. He was acutely aware of a pair of hands making a makeshift seat under his rear.

His vision finally clearing from the sleep, he was made aware that Flash had hoisted Kid Flash onto his back and was currently setting a nice pace over the icy landscape, back towards home. Zeta Tubes must have still been down.

Swell, this probably did wonders…

Still, he laid his head on the upper back of his hero, his mentor, his uncle. It _was_ kinda nice to not have to run after having just made tracks across the USA. It was kinda nice to have someone to turn to when you crumbled in pain on the field. It was kinda nice to wake up in the hospital and have someone waiting for you.

He twisted his legs around his uncle's waist, keeping a better grip.

Flash was very much aware that his nephew had woken up. He had felt him stir, felt him move his head left then right. Looking backwards at the boy's relaxed face, he allowed a smile to grace his features.

"Ready for me to let you go, Kiddo?" he asked gently.

Kid Flash considered this a moment. Yeah, he was capable of taking care of himself. He had just saved a queen remember? He was the man!

But, well, that little bit before Flash had gotten there…he had been lonely, scared even.

He was learning, he was getting stronger with every mission they went on. He had beaten an Injustice League, been released from Doctor Fate and now…saved an entire country.

But, you know what? Seeing Flash smile at him, so relieved and so full of PRIDE, that was better than absolutely anything else.

Thinking another moment, he considered…before lying his head down again. "Not yet."

Not yet…Flash could live with that.


End file.
